blackphooka

[blackphooka]

had a dream that i was in a slasher type horror movie and i was the victim. except i was all the victims at once. i had to run around struggling to keep up with the narrative--rushing off to get murdered one moment & then lying around as a corpse & then slipping out the back window and coming around the front to discover the body--shit was exhausting. after a while i didn't even mind getting gruesomely murdered since it meant I got to lie down for a flat minute :\

[blackphooka]

this is so kaz/jesper/wylan coded

[blackphooka]

it might seem counterintuitive at first, but i’m so grateful that bbc ghosts never overexplains. they don’t even try to standardise the rules of ghost physics, they go for whatever’s funnier at the moment. i don’t think we’ll ever find out what exactly makes some people stay as ghosts, what makes them move on, what causes their powers. there are other things they’ll probably never show, and i’m fine with that. we’ve never met George Button, and he’s still a compelling character. where a different show would tell you through three characters what they’re going through and what you should be feeling about it, bbc ghosts will give you much more with a subtle smile in the background. 

sometimes, filling the gaps in your head is much more interesting, and saying little or nothing at all is the most powerful statement. in a way, that’s co-creating, and it only adds to the love.

[blackphooka]

Yeah he kills or whatever but he’s a feminist

[blackphooka]

Y’know what the Captain was right “My Heart Belongs to Daddy” by Cole Porter is actually a really good song there definitely isn’t another version with lyrics that talks about having a sugar daddy

[blackphooka]

Hera: I know you're deflecting by making jokes about how hot you are. Aphrodite: It's not a joke. Aphrodite: * sniffles * Aphrodite: I'm a legit snack.

[blackphooka]

"OMG THIS IS JUST LIKE THE THOMAS THOEN AFFAIR!!!!!" the bbc ghosts fan says as they slowly bleed out from their fatal bullet wound

[blackphooka]

STOP IT WYLAN USES MUSIC NOTATION FOR HIS CHEMICALS

[blackphooka]

Maybe the reason the US government wants to ban tiktok is because American soldiers will not stop making videos like this

[blackphooka]

Airea D. Matthews, “Select passages from The Holy Writ of Us,” from Simulacra

[blackphooka]

the tension between u & the person pushing your glasses back up your nose

[blackphooka]

The lullaby

*disclaimer I am not French so apologies for any mistakes, however this is a legitimate lullaby that can be found here*

“It hurts.” Regulus’ voice wobbled and he stuck out his bottom lip. Tears gathered on his eyelashes. 

“You’ll be okay Reggie, it’ll only hurt for a little bit, I promise,” Sirius tickled Reg in the side and flopped backwards onto his bed. His brother seemed to calm down a bit and curled up next to him. They lay there for a moment, legs tangled, minds racing. After a moment Sirius heard his brother get up and walk across his room. 

“Siri it’s bleeding again,” the elder say up to see his brother on the other side of the room holding his arm. 

He huffed, ”Reg I told you to be careful with it. Don’t worry I’ve got some more tissues.”

Sirius clambered off his bed and grabbed the box off his dresser. Kneeling down he lightly dabbed at the cut on his brothers arm. “What were you even doing?”

“I wanted that toy up on the shelf but I couldn’t reach it even on tippy toes.” He point with his uninjured arm up at the little stuffed lion on Sirius’ shelf. 

“Don’t worry I’ll get it for you! Just hold still while I put another plaster on your arm.” 

A few moment later, Regulus was back on Sirius’ bed, this time tucked under the covers. 

“Here you go,” Sirius wandered back over and tucked the lion in next to his brother. “You’ve been very brave, just like a lion!”

Regulus smiled, to which Sirius started making quiet roaring noises making his brother giggle. “Can you sing me that song again tonight?”

Sirius looked at his brothers sad face. Still upset from his parents earlier. He smiled at Regulus. “Of course Reggie.”

« À la claire fontaine »

At a clear fountain

« M’en allant promener »

When I go for a walk

« J’ai trouvé l’eau si belle »

I found the water so beautiful 

« Que je m’y suis baigné »

That I bathed there

« Il y a longtemps que je t’aime »

I have loved you for a long time

« Jamais je ne t’oublierai »

I will never forget you

“What does it mean?” Regulus interrupted. 

“You’ve been doing your French lessons right?”

“Yes,” Regulus wrinkled his nose, him and Sirius didn’t like their French tutor much. 

“Well, then keep practicing and you’ll be able to figure out for yourself one day!” Sirius grinned at his little brother. 

“No fair! Mother let you start French much earlier than me. It’s gonna take aaaaages for me to learn in.”

“Well then you better go to sleep so that you can wake up tomorrow and keep practicing!” Regulus pouted at his words but stayed quiet. 

« Sous les feuilles d’un chêne »

Under the leaves of an oak

« Je me suis fait sécher »

I dried myself

« Sur la plus haute branche »

On the highest branch

« Un rossignol chantait »

A nightingale was singing

« Il y a longtemps que je t’aime »

I have loved you for a long time

« Jamais je ne t’oublierai »

I will never forget you

“Why did mother and father do that?” Regulus was looking up at him with a troubled expression. ‘To teach them a lesson’ his parents usually said. Sirius didn’t know about that but he did know that he didn’t like it when people hurt his little brother. 

“I’m not sure Reggie, don’t worry though, you’ve got me! I’ll always protect you!”

“Thanks Siri,” Regulus snuggled back down, keeping a tight grip on the lion toy. 

“Now shush and let me finish the song petite étoile.”

“Is that me? Pe-tite é-toile?”

“Yes, now shhhh.”

———————————————————

Sirius had sung that to him every night he’d asked. He’d believed in Regulus even when no one else had. Regulus had failed Sirius. He had not been brave like his brother wanted; many bad choices and cruel words had led him here. To this lake. His final chance to prove he was as brace as Sirius had believed. Maybe it was the liquid he’d drunk, maybe it was because he was dying, but all Regulus Black could think about was the lullaby. Sirius’ lullaby. 

« Chante, rossignol, chante »

Sing, nightingale, sing

His voice cracked as he choked on the words. 

« Toi qui a le cœur gai »

You who have a happy heart

« Tu as le cœur à rire »

You have a heart to laugh

He hope Sirius would get a chance to laugh again, when the war and killing is all over. 

« Moi, je l’ai à pleurer »

I have it to cry

« Il y a longtemps que je t’aime »

I have loved you for a long time

« Jamais je ne t’oublierai »

I will never forget you

« J’ai perdu mon ami »

I lost my friend

« Sans l’avoir mérité »

Without having deserved it

« Pour un bouquet de roses »

For a bouquet of roses

« Que je lui refusai »

That I refused him

« Il y a longtemps que je t’aime »

I have loved you for a long time

« Jamais je ne t’oublierai »

I will never forget you

« Je voudrais que la rose »

I would like the rose

« Fut encore au rosier »

Was still in the rose bush 

« Et que ma douce amie »

And that my sweet friend 

« Fut encore à m’aimer »

Was still loving me

« Il y a longtemps que je t’aime »

I have loved you for a long time

« Jamais je ne t’oublierai »

I will never forget you

[blackphooka]

but imagine Narcissa walking down the halls dragging Regulus by the ear while he whines and argues followed by Barty, Evan, Pandora, Dorcas, Sirius (he just joined in for the fun of it), Remus (he followed Sirius), James (also followed Sirius), and Peter (followed Remus) while Peeves floats around making up a rhyme about the Black Family tree

[blackphooka]

what is the difference between a house and a home?

sirius' house was tall ceilings and hardwood floors. it was paintings of his ancestors, stoic and with eyes of deep grays, watching over him. it was cold, even though the fire was burning, the candles lit. it was closed doors, hiding themselves from one another, and high arched windows, hanging off the windowsill, waiting to escape.

sirius' home was long hallways and hidden passages. it was blackboards and butterbeer, hogsmeade and zonko's. it's notes and messy scribbling on parchment. it was rock cakes and trips to the forbidden forest.

sirius' home was warm walls and an oven. it was a shared bed and the chudley cannons poster in james' room. it was fleamont's soft armchair and euphemia's soft hair, slipping through sirius' hands as he braided it.

sirius' home was a minuscule kitchen and a balcony with cold, metal bars, and an ashtray on a small, wooden chair. it was a squeaky bed and a leaking tag, and home was in remus lupin's arms, too.

[blackphooka]

I don’t know who needs to hear this but James Potter would have thought you were doing great and given you a hug if you needed it.

[blackphooka]

[blackphooka]

a californian but there’s something just a bit wrong and spooky about her. call that an uncanny valley girl